I took a friend and two of his friends over today and they dismembered my car (it's still weird to say "my car") and got my stereo and subwoofer out. It is now all sitting in my living room so eventually I'll have to haul it all out to Steve's storage unit because the thing is huge (it looks smaller in the back of a car). I learned a lot about the car as they were tearing the dash apart. I was able to get a couple of things out that I forgot the night of the crash (an extra piece to Jordan's car seat and some petty paperwork) and take these pictures which I'm glad to have.
Emotionally it was hard. I didn't think I got very attached to the car in 4 days but I was wrong. It's the car I crashed in. It's the car that was finally going to make me more independent. It's the car I payed for myself. The car I learned to drive stick in. It's a GOOD car. And it's the car that virtually saved my life because had we been in Steve's car... things would be a lot worse.
I'm exhausted. I'm weary and emotional. I drove by the scene today (and the scene of the fatality, which was actually on the other side of the highway, but still the same area) and saw the skid marks from my car. It all replayed in my head again. When I saw the skid marks is when I actually remembered skidding.
Tomorrow I go back to work and I am so not ready.